


Dragon's Dance & Wolves Sing Pt 1

by J_Morgan_Fly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aerys II Targaryen is Not a Mad King, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But still kind of crazy, Daenerys is a minor character, Daeron Targaryen lives, Direwolves (ASoIaF), F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Lyanna Stark Lives, Lyanna Stark faces consequences, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Not Rhaegar friendly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Sexism, R Plus L Equals J | Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen are Jon Snow's Parents, Rare Pairings, Rhaella and Aerys children live, Sansa Stark is a Stark, Sansa Stark is a Targaryen, Sansa is the daughter of Ned and Shaena, Shaena Targaryen Lives, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Morgan_Fly/pseuds/J_Morgan_Fly
Summary: In a world where Rhaella's babes live, a saner Aerys rules, and Rhaegar is betrothed to Cersei Lannister, House Targaryen finds themselves in a precarious position when Rhaegar runs off with Lyanna Stark.When Lord Rickard and his son come to court demanding the return of Lyanna and punishment against Rheagar they are not imprisoned and murdered but held as guests and attend council meetings to solve the matter of these runaway lovers. The end results of this affair will alter the future of the realm and of the princess Shaena. She is soon placed in a betrothal to Ned Stark upon the death of his brother and sent North.Follow her life from the day she learns of her brother's scandal to the birth of her children.Chapter 1 was updated on (01/14/21) to correct a consistency error with cannon events.
Relationships: Aegon Targaryen/Celia Whent, Aerys II Targaryen/Rhaella Targaryen, Arianne Martell/Jaehaerys Targaryen, Cersei Lannister/Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen/Viserys Targaryen, Jaime Lannister/Catelyn Tully Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Ned Stark/Shaena Targaryen
Comments: 42
Kudos: 109





	1. Shaena

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Another chance to win the fight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21425233) by [Lluvia185](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lluvia185/pseuds/Lluvia185). 



> Be kind, this is my first GOT/ASOIAF story I am posting since removing all of my previous GOT/ASOIAF for personal reasons.

A laugh escaped Shaena’s lips as she watched her youngest brother, Viserys, climb up into their mother's lap with the energy and carelessness of a child of five. He sat on his knees atop their mother's thighs and pushed himself out the window of the carriage as far he could with his mother hanging to his waist tightly while he waved joyfully as the crowd of Small folk who were cheering them.

They were returning home from attending mass at the Great Sept of Baelor. Shaena shared a carriage with her mother, her brothers Viserys and Jaehaerys, and her soon to be good-sister, Cersei Lannister. Her other brothers, Daeron and Aegon were in a separate carriage with Cersei’s brother, Jaime, and the Hand of the King, Lord Tywin Lannister. The hand was Cersei’s and Jaime’s father.

Shaena could only imagine the questions that Aegon, a boy of ten, had for the lion's heir. Aegon dreamed of being a great knight, and the young Ser Jaime was a renowned swordsman at only sixteen. He was Aegon's new obsession. Since Ser Jaime returned from a tourney at Harrenhall little Aegon had become his shadow. To a little boy like Aegon who wanted to be a knight, the young Ser Jaime was someone to admire and he was doubly excited that Jaime would be his good-brother soon.

Months ago, Ser Jaime had left Lord Whents Great Tourney early to return his sister to Kings Landing when she caught an ill stomach at a feast midway between Lord Whents great tourney. Something she ate the Maester said, but her brother wanted to take no chances and wished her examined by the grand maester at the Red Keep. After all, she was to be the future queen once she married Rhaegar, she deserved the highest quality treatment and care.

Rhaegar himself, Cersei’s besotted betrothed, did not accompany the siblings but stayed behind for the duration of the festivities. It was something that had obviously displeased Lady Cersei a great deal. Her mood was sour ever since she realized Rhaegar had not planned to follow her departure. To put salt in her wound he had not even the decent to write and ask after her well-being, to her directly or to the grand maester or any of his family. Many tried to comfort and reassure her that it didn’t mean anything. The prince had to entertain lord When with their father and was probably bombarded with requests for audiences by the many lords in attendance at the tourney. Rhaegar simply forgot or had not the time to write to them. 

But then there was the scandal of Rhaegar having crowned Lyanna Stark as the queen of love and beauty when he won the jousting competition. When Cersei had heard this she just tossed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "Well, without me there, he had to crown someone as the winner. It means nothing but that the prince is kind to take pity on the Northern girl whose own betrothed was trotting off with kitchen wenches and ladies ever evening."

It was true, and many spoke of how Robert Baratheon had laughed in the face of Rhaeger crowing his betrothed, stating the prince was just paying his lady her due. But they also spoke of Lord Robert's jealousy and resentment over it. Ser Barristan said that the moment the crown of flowers was laid in the young Stark girl's laps, everyone went silent and there was not a smile to be seen on a single face. 

Aerys had returned straight after the tourney but Rhaegar had chosen to keep away from home, instead, he took up residence at Dragonstone and ignored their father's many commands to come to court. He seemed desperate to stay away until his wedding day. But a week ago, the maester at Dragonstone wrote that Rhaegar had departed Dragonstone and it was the assumption he was coming at last to Kings Landing. 

Once he and Lady Cersei were wed they were to stay at court for the foreseeable future. Finally, Rhaegar would sit on his father's council, and prepare for the day he was to become king. Until now, her older brother has been a restless soul. He had been traveling through the realm on his own for so long and their father wished him to get reacquainted with the duties of a crown prince.

It would be nice to get to know her brother, Shaena thought. It felt like she had very rarely seen him growing up, which seemed strange as it had once been her father's intention for her and Rhaegar to wed, keeping the Targaryen crown pure. But there were more benefits to a betrothal to the Hand of the King's daughter to be had, and because Shaena had never been close to her brother, she did not feel much disappointment when an official betrothal was made between Rhaegar and Cersei.

Shaena was betrothed to her younger brother, Daeron. Her father was determined that one of his sons keep the Targaryen line pure. Daeron and she were close so she was not so terribly uncomfortable with the idea, despite growing up with the Faith's teachings that incest was an abomination. When she was old enough to question it, her father and mother explained that Targaryen’s were the exception to this law of the faith, for Targaryen’s were not like other men and women, they were the blood of Old Valyria and could ride Dragons. They were superior to the First Men and Andals of Westeros.

“Mass was lovely,” Shaena angled herself in her carriage seat to better face Cersei. Jaehaerys sat across from Cersei, a boy of seven, his head tilted down and eyes squinted in concentration as he scribbled a piece of charred stick over the page, drawing something or the other. He was completely absorbed in what he was doing to mind any of them any attention.

“I found the Septon’s sermon about the Stranger quite engaging and refreshing, would you agree?” she continued on with Cersei.

Since the Lady Cersei had moved into the Hands Tower with her father, as she planned her wedding and became acquainted with those of the family she would soon be entering, Shaena had made every attempt as a princess and soon to be good-sister to socialize and get to know Cersei. Shaena tried to befriend her, they were only a year apart in age after all and would be family, but Cersei was of a nature that unsettled her. She presented others with a smiling, demure mask. Appeasing the court with her bright, golden beauty and sardonic wit but there was wickedness in Cersei. She walked and talked as if she were already the queen. And though she was pleasant to her soon to be family, there was a prickliness that kept you from getting too close and a vicious disregard she had for others that Shaena had witnessed her to have.

She had once caught her pinching Viserys cheek till it was red and he was crying. There was something very dark in her, to hurt a child so needlessly. In frightened Shaena.

Shaena’s mother looked at Cersei with a waiting smile, wanting to hear her thoughts on the mass as well. Her mother had been happy to welcome a new daughter. She did not share the same rivalry and bitter resentment towards the Lannister’s as her father felt. Even despite the rumors that Cersei’s mother, Joanna Lannister who was a lady in waiting to her own mother, had been her father's paramour after he ascended the throne. When Shaena had been told that Lady Cersei would be living at the Red Keep with her father until the wedding and perhaps after, Shaena had asked her mother about her feelings and her past with the Lady Joanna. So little cared how her mother felt about things so Shaena made it a point to ask after her thoughts and emotions.

“I could ignore your father's infidelities as it is almost expected of kings to take mistresses. But taking his pick from my ladies was too humiliating and I owed it to the women in my service to allow no one to turn them into whores.” her mother's smile was almost rueful. “Lady Joanna was a beloved companion to me. She had a ferociously clever wit and easy charm that I appreciated but it was for the best I sent her away. For her own wellbeing, and for the realm.”

She had meant by this, that if Lady Joanna stayed at court and continued to be advanced upon by Shaena’s father then as a woman she had little power to turn him away, fight back, and when the line was crossed the rift between king and hand would grow to a gaping chasm with no hope of bridging. It was clear to all that the stone-hearted Tywin Lannister loved his wife exponentially and he would not tolerate any offense against her.

The golden-haired lioness smiled brightly when she noticed the queen's attention on her. “Yes, it was a very different take from what the Septon at The Rock says of the Stranger.”

Her mother smile grows a little before her attention returns to Viserys. Cersei scowled at that. A tight, twisting, and pursing of lips that soon smoothed out to a thin line and then a forced smile directed at Shaena.

Cersei was different when it came to Shaena’s mother. She was more sincere, almost sweet when the queen's attention was focused on her. It was like she was a completely different person. But it didn’t feel like an act that Cersei put on just to impress the current queen. She seemed to truly want Shaena’s mother to like her and was eager for her approval and affection and Shaena’s mother was free with both. Shaena thought Cersei’s attachment to her mother was because she had lost her own mother young. Rhaella was a willing substitute who happily poured affection and love onto Cersei, giving her gifts and inviting her to women’s sit-downs and family meals often.

It would be innocent enough and no need for concern, but Cersei was possessive of Shaena’s mother and was witnessed to become easily jealous and violent toward the younger children who occupied a great deal of her mother's time and attention.

Shaena had approached her mother about her fears and what she had seen.

“I understand your worries, my heart, I truly do. That is why I must ask you to watch over your brothers for me. Keep them away when Lady Cersei has need of my attention,” she had said to her with a rueful smile. "You are so good with the boys, it will be no hard task for you I am sure."

Shaena had tried to argue but her mother quieted her with a most serious look.

“The crown needs this marriage to go through, Shaena. Your father teeters every day on waging war against the Westerlands out of spite and resentment toward Lord Tywin. This marriage will not just fund the realm but keep the peace for years to come.” she took her daughters face in hand, their matching eyes holding each other. Her mother's eyes were indigo, a color that was passed to her two oldest children and them alone. The others all had lilac or violet eyes. Shaena also has her mothers darker, platinum gold hair, as did Aegon. Her other brothers all had paler, more silver-toned hair like their father.

“Cersei---”

“Is to be your sister and the next queen of Westeros after myself. We need to be kind to her, patient with her and do our best to teach her how to be a part of this family.” with these words her smile had hope in the curve of it. Her mother placed a soft kiss to both her temples and their conversation was put to an end.

“I’ve never attended a wedding before in the Sept of Baelor. Only the royal family and their relatives are allowed to wed in the Great Sept.” Shaena tried to exude more excitement about the coming marriage of Cersei and her brother. Cersei gave her a tight smile, as if she were humoring a child. In response, Shaena’s own smile grew tight. Shaena was ten and five and Cersei were but a year older than her, so she did not have so much high ground for maturity as she seemed to present herself with.

“Is your wedding gown finished? I am eager to get a glimpse of it or will you have us all wait till the wedding to see?” she continued this train of conversation with Cersei, distracting her from how her mother was gushing and giggling over little Viserys in her arms.

Cersei seemed happy enough to talk of her impending nuptials to her. Boasting how it would the grandest of weddings to rival all royal affairs that came before. Cersei’s father was sparing no expense. It would be a true spectacle, one that would enrich the highborn and excite the small folk. Most of all, it would be a show of wealth and power for House Lannister, as if either was in question.

Shaena’s father hated it. He saw it as a The Lord Hand purposely trying to show him up by use of pageantry. The king had become paranoid, bitter, and jealous of his old friend. The king was a proud man, and years ago when people began to say it was Tywin Lannister who truly ruled the realm it was a heavy blow to her father's ego. When this began, her father had started to purposely act opposite of Lord Tywin’s council in spite and to try and make a point that he was king not Lord Tywin. But by not properly considering his old friend's council leads the king to make disastrous choices. Such that lead him to his capture and torment at Duskendale four years ago. She could still remember the panic and worry of her mother and the council, terrified of what would happen. It was such a relief when the received word that the King had been retrieved, though not completely unharmed. Her father had been ruthless in his punishment of all the occupants of Duskendale. Guilty and innocent in the defiance and crimes of their lord.

It was many people's hope this marriage might help heal the rift between her father and Lord Tywin. For once they had been good friends, and perhaps being in-laws would spark that former friendship, now that they found themselves bound to each other in a much more deeper way than the codependency of the political positions of king and hand. And with Lady Joanna deceased, it would be difficult for even her father to insult the fair lady to Tywin’s face when he rested in her tomb. Even her callous father had some sense of respect for the memory of the dead, though it was little seen. An approved relationship between her father and his old friend would certainly be a pleasant side effect of this union and make the court more bearable, though the reasons for the match were far more politically inclined.

Despite her father's wish to have a true Targaryen legacy, the crown need House Lannister’s gold more for there to be a legacy to continue. So the original plan for Shaena to marry Rhaegar was dismissed for an official betrothal to the then ten-and-two Cersei Lannister at the time. Tywin though not loved, was feared and respected and they need to secure both his wealth and tactical power and Twyin wanted a hand on the Throne. Tywin had already made it clear when he attempted to resign from his position after the anniversary tourney that if he was not appreciated, and his family not respected he would remove himself from the court and take his gold with him. Her father of course had waived off his resignation with a laugh, refusing to accept it. After all, Tywin may be Hand to the King but he was still a subject like all other lords and he served at the pleasure of his king. But it had made her father worry, her mother explained when she was older and had asked why she wasn’t to marry Rhaegar anymore. Tywin did not ask for reward, no, he was too proud but he did still expect something for his loyalty and his achievements done in the name and benefit of the crown. He had helped ensure prosperity and peace for many years and the crown relied heavily on him.

It was no wonder why the rumors of Tywin being the true ruler of the realm began.

The matter was, and it was a difficult truth for the king to accept, Lord Tywin and his gold had become indispensable to the throne. Done on purpose perhaps, he had ingrained himself into the reign of her father to such a powerful degree, that to pull himself out would be like to rip the foundation out from a building. It would wobble and collapse at the first rough wind or shake of the earth. Her father was not equipped to rule alone and her mother though intelligent and charming, she did not come with the wealth and tactical brilliance that the gods had granted Lord Lannister to aide her father and the realm. A part of that was the king's fault, he had never liked her mother to be much more than a pretty figure on his arm to make himself look more regal at court and in privacy, she was nothing but a broodmare to breed more Targaryen sons with.

A choice had to be made about how to keep Tywin Lannister in the crown's pocket. The cost had been subtly hinted at over the years and it was making Cersei Lannister queen. Tywin wanted more than just a rumor of being a shadow king, he wanted his blood on the throne for true, a crown atop a golden lions mane.

“Father says he will fund the restoration of Summerhall as a wedding gift for I and Rheager,” Cersei said with an excited and smug smile on her face. Shaena tried not to frown.

Daeron was the prince of Summerhall, then when Rhaeger took the crown and had to abandon Dragonstone, Daeron would be the prince of Dragonstone and Aegon would then be Prince of Summerhall. It was wonderful that the castle would be restored, she knew Rheagar often visited there so it was a lovely gift indeed that he would appreciate but the entitlement for it in Cersei’s voice grated Shaena.

“What a lovely and generous gift,” her mother entered the conversation. When Shaena looked, Viserys was curled up, eyes dropping as the rock of the carriage lulled him to sleep after tiring himself out with his overexcitement. “It was such a beautiful keep before the fire.”

Cersei’s face ignited, and Shaena could understand why she was called the light of the west. Cersei was talking even more animatedly than before as she told Shaena’s mother about all her plans for Summerhall and inviting Rhaella to consult since she had seen Summerhall herself as it once was and could help keep the new additions as close to the old as possible. Cersei went on to talk about how she would have a tourney once it was complete to celebrate.

As Cersei kept eye contact and conversation with her mother, Shaena thought to alleviate the weight of Visery’s from her mother's lap and took the boy into her own. Her mother shot her a very quick, grateful glance before her full attention was back on her soon to be good-daughter.

Shaena hoped the roads would clear more so they could get back sooner. Construction had started moving into the main city last year to replace old structures with marble designs. It had all started during the beginning of her father's reign, after the birth of her brother, Daeron, in 269AC. It was one of the few of her father's dreams for his reign that he was actually seeing through. A city of marble.

It started with her father ordering a small new city to be built on the south bank of the Black Water, which had risen to be the pearl of Kings Landing. It was a glistening, new town that example what the rest of the city was to be. Her father had some of the best craftsmen in the city open new, dazzling shops for the highborn of the court to enjoy without the stench and filth of the rest of the city and soon the rest of Kings Landing would be made to match. The plan was to slowly destroy and rebuild kings landing to all marble housing. The Dragon Pit would be torn down completely and a tower will be risen up from the rubble. The tower would be near as large as High Tower and up it's body would climb sixteen stone dragons, with three at the very peak of the tower. There would be a stone dragon for each of the dragons the Targaryen's had since they landed in Westeros. Obviously, the three at the top would be Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar. The original three dragons the Targaryen's brought to Westeros.

The idea to deconstruct and rebuild Kings Landing came to her father from his disgust by the foul smell of the city due to the long issues with the latrines and the sewer system. The best way to repair that was by demolishing the old buildings, gut out and fix the current drains, and install new aqueducts in the foundations. If you had to tear it all down anyway to fix the problem why not keep building better? Despite the inconveniences and the time, it would take to complete, Shaena thought it was brilliant. It would one day lead to much better lives for all the people in King's Landing. The smallfolk would have cleaner living conditions, warmer homes, and easy to traverse paved streets. The Targaryen's too would look the better for it down the road as well. It would be a proud achievement, a new jewel in the crown of the Targaryen's legacy.

“Aegon found Kings Landing and made it a city of wood and dirt, Maegar built from that with bricks but I shall leave it a city of marble before my rule is over,” the maester recorded her father proclaiming in court the day he announced the start of his new project. “We shall have a true, New Valyria in Westeros when I am done!”

Shaena only hoped a new Doom did not follow their New Valyria.


	2. Rhaella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see things through Rhaella's perspective a bit, exploring her feelings for her children and brother-husband along with her true thoughts about Cersei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Not super happy with this chapter, but I don't think I can do much better right now. The first chapters are always difficult for me when it comes to writing. I know it's important to set the scene and I didn't want to just jump into the thick of it but lead up to it, that said it will be a few chapters before we see Shaena head to Winterfell.

Rhaella was in high spirits. She had woken to a clear sky and the scent of the jasmine from her balcony where it had crawled up from the garden below. She broke her fast in the garden after preparing for the day she then collected her children and met the Hand of the King and his children to travel to the Sept of Baelor together for mass.

Her husband did not join them. The King proffered to take his own mass privately once a week in a small Sept located in the Red Keep. The High Septon would then perform communion for the king and recite sermons to him.

On the way to and from the Sept of Baelor, Rhaella tossed coins to the smallfolk that came out to catch glimpses of the royals in their carriages. It was good for them to be seen, her family, though she knew it was the king their subjects wished to see the most. Though Aerys had much improved since his initial bouts of paranoia and violence after the incident with Duskendale, he still rarely felt secure enough to travel beyond the safety of the Red Keep. She wished he would so that he could see for himself the ongoing construction and improvements from his endeavor to revitalize the capital's architecture and plumbing. It was years-long of inconvenience to some of the smallfolk and even some middle-class citizens of the city but it also created more jobs and helped the economy of the capital. It was going successfully overall and the people would be glad for the results when it was completed. As was the renovations to the Red Keep itself that she had been overseeing personally, adding marble inlay to the red stone of the castle, many of the floors in the halls and chambers were plated over with pattered tiles exported from Essos, new crystal candle fixtures were hung up in the ballrooms, halls, the throne room and other prominent areas where they could be shown off in. Then there were both decorative and supportive Corinthian marble pillars that were installed all through the castle.

While calling inspiration from Old Valyria the ultimate goal of calling on the designs of their ancestors across the sea was to step into the future. Sometimes progress meant looking back. Historians were calling these changes a part of the Valyrian rival. A renaissance of beauty, power, and art.

After years of being in Tywin Lannister's shadow, Aerys was finally being talked about as a great king, the mind who had thought up this revival, who urged his councilors on about the benefits of his ideas for the kingdoms as a whole. Though the truth of the matter it was very much about the legacy of House Targaryen and their good name not wasting away to boring rulers who did nothing but keep things the same for years and years with no progress, it did benefit others beyond just Rhaella’s own family. And if they wanted to continue this progress they had to look beyond their own house.

It was one of the reasons she was so happy for Rhaegar to marry Lady Cersei rather than Shaena. Rhaella held the same beliefs as her grandfather, Aegon V, and encouraged her husband to consider matches for their children outside of their own siblings. He had wanted Shaena, the only daughter to them, to marry Rhaegar. Aerys believed in the idea of Targaryen exceptionalism, of keeping the line of the throne as pure as possible. Neither Shaena nor Rhaegar had ever been particularly happy by this match, merely resigned to the duty of following their father's decree that one day they would wed when Shaena came of age. If not for the need of more gold to see Aerys ambitions met then Shaena might very well have been the one to wed Rhaegar, instead it was Cersei and Sheana was betrothed to her younger brother Daeron. No matter how hard she tried she could not make Aerys bend on the match. At least Shaena was close to Daeron where Rhaegar with his long absences was a near stranger to his own sister. If not her own insistence she have a miniature of him done every time he came home, his siblings might never know their oldest brother's face.

To the relief of her aging heart, her children were all growing strong and healthy. After so many miscarriages and stillbirths between her living children, sometimes it felt like a miracle any healthy children were born to her and Aerys at all. And it had not just been her who had suffered from the losses. It had taken a toll on Aerys as well. After she bore him three healthy sons when Aegon was born, Aerys opened his heart a little again. He found joy in their many sons and their accomplishments and his plans were slowly being met one after the other, slowly, but surely. Her brother was almost the charming young man he was when he first took their father's throne. Entertaining the court with japes and clever wit as he negotiated and took audiences from lords and merchants.

There was never much love between her and Aerys, even before they married, but things were between them. She would not call them friends, nor did they have the brother and sister relationship she wished they might have had when they were young, but she and Aerys had become amiable acquaintances who just so happened to be married to one another. It was a quiet relationship, intimate only when duty called to make heirs or a good appearance to the court and kingdom. Rhaella did not mind. She had her children and ladies in waiting for company and projects to keep her distracted like the restoration of the keep. And Aerys had his mistresses to warm his bed and plenty of plans for their kingdom to work through with his small council. They had their own lives to live and she realized she was greatly happier for it. Once she was a caged bird, trapped in the castle and watched constantly by maids and guards under Aerys orders when he was paranoid that she was having an affair, angry at her when she failed to give him another son until finally Daeron was born. She had her space, she had freedom again and the love of her children to fulfill her.

Thinking on the birth of her sons, there was the matter of her eldest son's upcoming nuptials to the Lady Cersei and all the benefits of it. It had changed everything. More than ever they had the support of the West and all its bounties. Soon the coffers of the crown would be swimming in Lannister Gold from Cersei’s hefty dowry rather than just borrowed money from Tywin. And what it did to the relationship between the fathers of the groom and bride was a true blessing. Rhaella had caught just the other day her husband praising Ser Jaime to His Hand with sincerity after he had witnessed a sparring match between the Lannister heir and one of the Kings Gaurd.

It had been so long since Tywin and Aerys had a civil conversation and acted like friends. It put the king in a better mood too, especially when Lord Tywin returned the compliment to his son by voicing his own high opinion of the prince. Rhaegar was well-read and well mannered if not an absent and uninterested crown prince. Daeron was charismatic and witty with a noble heart, Aegon was natural with a sword and bow, Jaehaerys was a quick study in letters and numbers and Viserys was obedient if not a little to excitable at times. Her children had their strengths and their faults, as all did. But to hear the Hand of the King, the cold Tywin Lannister, a man not known to speak false compliments, give praise of her sons was---Well, any mother would feel a swell of pride.

Then there was Shaena, her only daughter. Since the day she was born, Shaena was all Rhaella’s. She was hers, her girl, the pearl of her world, the light in the darkness when life with Aerys was a torment. Her darling daughter soothed the hurts of the miscarriage she had before Daeron was born. And when her oldest ladies-maids, her dearest friends time came to leave her side it was Shaena who became her steadfast companion. From a young age, Shaena had learned not to run to her father, to be seen and not heard in his presence but she was no wallflower either. Shaena was more than just pretty and polite, she was loving and enduring, charming and witty and deeply intelligent. She was talented with a lute, she could sing, dance, embroider and could speak High Valyrian, and the Summers Tongue, she could read and write in both as well and was well versed in the scripture of the Faith of the Seven and knowledgeable of the history of Westeros and it’s many houses. After all, Shaena was once meant to be queen, and even after Rhaegar was formally betrothed to Lady Cersei years ago, Rhaella had still insisted on giving her daughter a queen's education. Lady Cersei joined Shaena in these lessons when she came to the capital, though Tywin was a man who had long planned for his daughter to be queen so her education was already on par with Shaena’s.

When Shaena had reached her thirteenth name day she had ladies-in-waiting of her own assigned to her and she spent less time with her mother. Her daughter wanted to read Valyrian poetry with them, giggle over romantic stories with them and walk the gardens with them. Rhaella missed her daughter’s company, but she would never deny her child the companionship of ladies her own age. Besides, Shaena still visited her mother often, learning the ways of a lady and queen, for one day she would be the princess of Dragonstone and would need to manage her and Daeron’s household. And they took walks by the water together and picnicked in the King's Wood, shopped together in the Dragon’s Eye and talked of their days at dinner. There wasn’t a day that went where they didn’t see each other.

Before Rhaella’s eyes, her second child was becoming a woman. Just this month she had her first bleeding. Once Aerys heard about it he started pushing for Shaena and Daeron to wed soon after Rhaegar and Lady Cersei did. But they were both children still and she was trying to hold it off as long as she could. She might not be able to convince Aerys to break the betrothal off but she could delay it. They were too young to marry one another. Daeron might be taller than his older sister at just three and ten but he was still just a boy, he wasn’t ready to be a husband to any one.

“The wedding of one's firstborn is truly a momentous occasion to look forward to,” Rhaella commented to Cersei as they approached the first curtain wall of the Red Keep and rode under the barbican into the outer yard where the gold cloaks barracks and training yard was located. Soldiers cleared the way for their carriages and escorts as they rode through and up the smooth stone ramp to the second yard.

“And if the gods smile on us you will have even more to celebrate after the wedding,” Cersei said, glowing like the sun as she placed a palm to her belly in explanation to what she was referring to.

Rhaella reached her hand out and took hold of Cersei’s. “Do not stress on that matter too much my dear.”

At that Cersei frowned at her, not understanding how she could say something like that. Rhaella understood why she might feel conflicted over what she said so she tried to explain a little better. “Yes, it is important for there to be an heir, but you are still so young and Rhaegar is only three and twenty. If you would be so kind to listen to my advice, focus on each other these first years of marriage.”

“But---”

“You are to be queen, my dear, and it will require you to be in partnership with my Rhaegar.” she leaned back in her chair, speaking from her own experience. “I’m sure it’s obvious to anyone, I and the King are not in love. We never have been and I only blame ourselves for not trying harder”.

“I know Rhaegar has not been as attentive toward you as he should. He’s always been a wayward, distant boy.” she said it as an apology. "But once he's here, I will talk with him,"

When he was a boy they couldn’t get Rhaegar out of the library and then one day he decided to pick up a sword and start traveling, playing his harp in village squares like a beggar, Jon Connington his constant shadow. She sensed he was searching for something, but he never disclosed any of his true thoughts to her or his father, and her son's few friends were all too loyal to wag their tongues. She had a suspicion it had to do with the prophecy that prompted her and Aerys to wed. About the prince that was promised being born from her and Aerys line.

That was a heavy burden to always carry, to try and interpret. She didn’t believe in it. Mostly she just wished Rhaegar was more disciplined and focused on his future as king. He was always such a studious young man, but never in the subjects that were needed for his position as king. He was friendly but didn’t focus as much as he should on the lords of the realm. Aerys mocked that he was too much like his great grandfather, Aegon V.

Rhaella tried to be grateful that he wasn’t a rake, for all his traveling. He was sensible, good. But distracted by something else and she worried for him. How could a mother not worry for her oldest, especially since he had such a large burden to bare, a destiny. She just wished he would settle down, and this marriage would guarantee he did.

“I want the two of you to be happy in this marriage,” she told Cersei, offering her last bit of advice, speaking from experience and learning lessons the hard way. “Most importantly, the better you know and understand each other, the stronger your rule will be.”

“You must know, that I already love your son deeply. I will be a good and true wife to him and a _strong_ queen,” Cersei said with a feline grin. Almost hungry and it frightened Rhaella. Nor did it pass her by what Cersei was implying when she put emphasis on ‘strong’ queen. So many thought she was weak, but only a strong woman could endure the things Aerys liked to do to her, who could still go on living after loss after loss, the fire at Harrenhall that took her great-grandfather and her mother and so many people close to her heart. All her babies that never got to take their first breath or who lived but for a few hours before the stranger cradled them away. Rhaella was not a weak woman nor a weak queen. She knew her duties and she performed them despite the personal pains. She smiled and walked tall in the face of her people and the judging eyes of the court. She had the blood of the dragon in her too.

Cersei wanted a mother again, she wanted Rhaella to praise her, give her attention, and be affectionate towards her as if she were her daughter in true. But that did not mean there weren’t things about Rhaella that Cersei just did not like or approve of. And though Rhaella was more than supportive and accepting of the marriage between Cersei and Rhaegar, Rhaella was not blind to the child ambitious, her two-sidedness and sly charm. She was dangerous. She had her father's sharp mind and his viciousness too, but the girl was young and Rhaella felt she could help leash her if need be.

Rhaella’s smile was a tight one, a glint of fire in her eyes. “There are many ways to be strong, Lady Cersei,”

The young girl's back stiffened with indignation. As she opened her mouth to give what Rhaella assumed was a strong-headed, clever remark about power that was likely to be a great impression of her father, the carriage stopped and the door was opened by a carriage footman. Rhaella took the offered hand and eased down and out. She stopped and turn, watching as Barristan Selmy of the king's guard came forward, taking Viserys from Shaena. Her littlest dragon barely stirred.

“Lady Lollys, would you please take Prince Viserys up to his rooms for a short nap. Then wake him for his lessons in an hour?.” Rhaella addressed her lady-in-waiting. Lolly was a portly, plain-looking girl of seven and ten. She was the second daughter of Tanda and Lord Bernarr Stokeworth. Her mother had worried about finding her a husband and sent her to court in hopes Rhaella may take pity on her and assist it making her a match.

Lollys was wonderful with the children. She was simple and had a placid temperament that men would find boring, but that was quite useful when dealing with children as she did not become easily riled or frustrated with them when they acted up. When it came to getting a man's interests, Lady Lollys was a dull creature. The girl was no beauty and she was not a great conversationalist or had any real interests to amuse herself or others with, and as she had no substantial dowry to offer since it was her older sister that was heir unless a son was born, it truly would take the queen's favor to help her find the girl a husband.

“Yes, your highness,” Lollys curtsied as deep as she could before rising and taking Viserys from Ser Barristan. The knight nodded to a few others to escort her, ensuring the princes' safe arrival to his rooms.

After Shaena exited, it was Jahaerys who came out next, coming forward to join her and his sister as they waited for Daeron and Aegon to get out of their own carriage. Rhaella did not like to hurry inside, leaving behind her children to be tended and Sheppard by servants. With all the lessons her children took and her own duties to keep her busy, she treasured every second with her children. She had to fight her husband not to send her youngest sons to be raised in Dragonstone. Rhaella knew and understood a woman in her position did not directly raise her own children, that they were placed in the care of respectable and trusted nursemaids, septa’s, tutors, valets, and such, but that did not mean she did not wish to spend as much time with her babes as she could. She adored and treasured each child and wished to shower them with love and what wisdom she could offer that their attendants could not. She did not want to be as much a stranger to her sons and daughter as their father was.

When Lady Cersei appeared in the carriage door her brother, Ser Jaime, stepped up in place of the footman and offered his hand for her to take as she stepped out. He looked at his sister like she truly was the sun in the sky, the center of his world and some found it sweet and charming how protective Ser Jaime was of his sister yet their was something that Rhaella recognized in both of their eyes that she did not like. She had interrupted Cersei one evening with the king, boasting of Ser Jaimes swordsmanship and how he could best any member of the King's Guard if he so wanted and how if only they had another able-bodied brother he would gladly ask to be a sworn protector of the king. It was not just a sister praising her brother, boasting his loyalty and skill. There was a motive behind her words. Rhaella had believed she had been trying to goad the King to induct Ser Jaime into the King's Guard. For what reason, Rhaella only had suspicions. 

Rhaella had to take on the responsibility of damage control after that, for her husband was still a resentful man when it came to Lord Tywin and there would be no greater slight than to steal away the heir of Casterly Rock for good. But with the marriage of Cersei and Rhaegar, she managed to convince her brother not to take the bait and leave Ser Jaime be. It would do well that Ser Jaime be married soon and take over his father's role at Casterly Rock. She would have to see about assisting Tywin in making his son a match. She knew that he had been in talks with Lord Hoster Tully for the hand of his youngest daughter, Lysa. The oldest Tully girl, Catelyn, was betrothed to Brandon Stark and would be marrying any day now. The two had been betrothed since Lady Catelyn was two and ten.

Aegon and Daeron had made it out of the carriage and approached on either side of the Lord Hand. Aegon was animatedly asking Lord Tywin about all the battles he had fought, never tiring of hearing them no matter how many times he had the Hand of the King recount the tales. Good Ser Lewyn Martell of the Kings Gaurd tried to distract Aegon from bothering the Lord Hand too much by sharing the stories of his own battles with the boy.

She and Tywin met eyes and she bowed her head respectfully to him before noticing his eyes were set beyond her, not on her. She looked over her shoulder and saw her husband's First Valet, approaching, a grim expression on his face. He passed Rhaella to go directly to Lord Tywin, whispering to him something of great urgency. She watched his expression carefully for any slight tick that could give her a clue as to what has happened without him telling her.

“Jaime, take your sister to her rooms,” Lord Tywin addressed his son, giving no other explanation.

“Father?” Cersei tried to question, her arm looped through her brothers.

“Go,” he said again, and gave a look that warned he would not repeat himself. Ser Jaime whispered something to his sister and lead her away as told.

Lord Tywin then instructed her ladies to take the younger of the children to their lessons.

“How about we take a walk in the gardens, sister?” Daeron offered Shaena, reading the atmosphere. Shaena looked at her mother, concerned but Rhaella just gave her an encouraging smile to follow Daeron's lead.

Shaena nodded, putting her arm in Daeron's and going off, Ser Lewyn Martell following as a chaperone and protector.

“What has happened?” Rhaella asked Lord Tywin as he offered her his arm to escort her into the Red Keep once the children were out of range of hearing.  
In a low voice, he told her of the issue they faced.

“Lord Rickard Stark and his oldest son are in the capital.” he began, which was strange as the wedding of Lady Catelyn Tully and Lord Brandon Stark was just a fortnight away.

“What for?” she asked, a sense of dread coiling around her heart like vines, clinging and taking root.

“It appears Prince Rhaegar has abducted the Stark girl, Lyanna, ten leagues from Harrenhall on her way to her brother's wedding.” she could feel Tywins bicep go rigid. She looked at his profile and saw his neck become taunt as he clenched his jaw, clearly but quietly furious by this insult that her son and done to him and his daughter.

Rhaella felt her heart stutter, her face going cold as the blood left her cheeks, taking all her color with it. This could not be happening. Everything was going so well. She could not fathom why this had happened. “Lord Hand, surely there must be some mistake. I---”

“His majesty has called me to speak with him and Lord Stark on the matter. I hope you will prepare adequate rooms for the king's guest, your highness,” Tywin said as he took his arm back as they reached the castle, leaving her standing alone with the weight of this scandal that could tear their kingdom apart on her shoulders and heart.

She was Rhaegars mother. Was this somehow her fault? Was it Aerys’. Where had they gone so wrong with their son he would do something so foolish? She wanted to weep but she could not. There was work to be done.

Swallowing, she gave the orders and called for the steward so that rooms could be prepared for Lord Stark and his son along with preparations for a modest feast that night to welcome them. After she went to the sept in the castle and prayed to the seven for her husband to keep his head, for no insult to be done upon him by the Starks that might cause even more rift between the North and South, that Tywin did not break the betrothal between Rhaegar and Cersei. When she had made her prayers she lit a candle for each of the gods and returned to her duties, ignoring the thundering in her ears and the heavy sinking of her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make it very cleary, Rhaella is not a saint. She is a good, loving mother willing to open her arms to Cersie but she is not naive to Cersei's true character either.


	3. Rickard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rickard Stark arrives in the capital, determined to seek justice and retrieve Lyanna Stark from the clutches of her Targaryen abductee, Prince Rhaegar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things about my choice of royal honorifics.  
> In the original text by G.R.R.M he uses "Your Grace" to address a king or queen. I have chosen to opt for the same chosen form of address that was adopted by the English court in 1519.  
> King: Your Majesty  
> Queen, Prince and Princess: Your Highness  
> Septon's: Your Grace  
> Lords and Lady: My Lord or My Lady.  
> Another thing, not necessary to know, but you might find it interesting for your visualization. Currently, Kings Landing and Westeros is going through it Renaissance, a time of art, science, innovation and culture. The fashions specifically have very Italian renaissance designs to them.  
> Also, thank Spotify and Yankee Candle for this chapter. I listened to an ambience playlist meant to help concentration and focus while my Juicy Watermelon candle burned nearby. It really helped me mellow and focus on my writing and finishing this chapter.

By some blessing of the Old Gods, he and Brandon were not free hanging by their necks on the gallows.

Rickard had warned his son to stay cool-headed when they entered the Red Keep. That they would request an audience with the king and ask for Lyanna’s return. As angry as they both were, staying calm and rational was the best and only way to get Lyanna back. What does his son do? He storms through the doors, sword raised, and shouting for Rhaegar to “Come out and die!”

They had half the Kings Guard and a dozen Lannister and Targaryen soldiers each, surrounding them in minutes. Their swords were pointed at their throats and bellies, ready to cut them down if they moved a hair. Brandon was a man on a mission to rescue his sister and give Rhaegar the beating of his life, he actually dared to fight with one of the King's Guard. He howled and called for Rhaegar again as he met swords with the knight. Rickard pleaded for them not to hurt his son and tried to talk Brandon down while explaining the reason why they had come. By the mercy of one of Gerold Hightower, the commander of the Kings Gaurd they were escorted to the small council chamber rather than to the Black cells as some of the rest of the knights wanted. Rickard did not blame them after Brandon’s threat against the prince and his attack of one of the Kings Gaurd. Ser Gerold excused his choice that it was the King's place to pass judgment on the intruders, not they.

On the walk, Rickard reflected on his oldest son. Brandon was always bold and hot-blooded, nary a thing he feared. He blamed the wolf's blood. His oldest son wasn’t called the ‘Wild Wolf’ for nothing. Lyanna had the wolf blood too. It was often a trait that made him and their mother worry about them. They were souls that craved to pave their own paths, to be free and live like a true wolf, unbound and ever roaming at their own pleasure and necessity. But alas, they were born in the flesh of man and were tied to duty and man's law.

Lyarra said marriage would help them learn to settle, to be content with what they had. As he looked back on why it was he was here, Rickard regretted not having Lyanna marry Robert the moment she flowered. At the time he thought her too young, she was only ten and four when she got her moon-blood and Robert could stand to wait another couple of years. But young Robert Baratheon was never the one he should have worried about getting restless and straying from the betrothal. He knew Lyanna wasn’t happy with the match, displeased with Roberts whoring ways and how he had already a bastard in the Eyrie. He had wished Brandon had never told her about the child. Maybe she wouldn’t have had so many reservations about the marriage if she did not know so much about Robert’s proclivities.

Rickard and his wife had tried to convince her on more than one occasion that when she and Robert were finally wed things would be better. They would be the Lord and Lady of Storms End and Robert wouldn't have so much time to wander and pay attention to other women that were not his wife. The eldest of the Baratheon sons had never been shy in declaring his deep love for Lyanna through the years since they first met after he and Ned began their fostering at the Eyrie. It was like something out of a song, how he had looked at her and knew then and there that she was the perfect woman for him. Many women would be wooed and charmed, but not Lyanna, despite her love for songs. But the truth was that he nor her mother could not promise her that Robert might never stray from their marriage-bed, some men were just too hot blood, too passionate to have one woman but that did not mean Lyanna was displeasing to him or that he did not love her. It was just the way of some men. Rickard truly believed Robert would not hurt Lyanna. She would be well cared for, adored, and given a good life at Storms End as its lady.

When he or Lyarra had these talks with Lyanna, she would smile and put on an air of resignation for them at the end of them despite her earlier protests and complaints. As she got older her acceptance seemed more genuine. They thought it meant Lyanna was simply maturing, understanding her place in the world better. But just like as a child, it was more an act than anything. Now he realized maybe if they had listened to her concerns and her feelings more, this nightmare could have been avoided. Because Rickard wasn’t sure what was worse to imagine, that his little girl had been taken against her will or she had gone with Prince Rhaegar by her own volition because they were forcing her into a marriage she did not want.

Until he was given cause to believe otherwise he would assume it was the former and not the latter.

As they walked, Rickard had taken notice of all the new pompous and extravagant additions to the Red Keep since the last time he had been a guest in the capital. All he could see was the impracticality of the grandiose design. The North and house Stark specifically descended from expert builders. They constructed everything to last, to withstand the elements and tests of time, and did not spare expenses for a fanciful and pretty appearance. Though he would not say that every new feature was without practicality. Some of these stone pillars would apply extra support to the castle. But otherwise, all the dress-up of stone and people made his stomach knot.

The capital was a parade of peacocks, vying for the attention of the king and his hand and showing off to the rest of the kingdoms. It was tiring just to look upon.

Brandon was flouncing around the room, prowling while Rickard had chosen to take a seat at the table, glad when they were brought a pitcher of ale and wine as they waited. He was a brave man, but there was no way for him to predict what was going to happen. Rickard didn’t want war, he just wanted his daughter back. If this was some knight or young lord, it might be easier to resolve the problem but this was a prince who was engaged to the daughter of the second most powerful man in the kingdoms.

The north mostly minded their own, but they still relied on trade from southern parts of Westeros to get through the harsher seasons when their crops were sparse and grain reserves low. Twin was the hand of the king and he still had the power and influence to make the North destitute, and desperate. Tywin would drive the North to ask for some type of loan or favor to put house Sark in Tywin’s debt. He might ruin and humiliate them anyway just for this offense alone against Lady Cersei who was Rhaegar’s bride.

Rickard poured himself a generous cup of ale and drank it down.

“When the king enters you will not say a single word, do you understand me, boy!?” Rickard snapped his head toward his son, his voice a rough, grumbling sound as he gritted his teeth and glared at his eldest. The boy stopped, hackles raised.

“Why we sit here, waiting, that cunt has Lyanna and is most likely raping her as we speak!” Brandon howled, taking his father's command as an affront. “I swear I can hear her crying, calling for us to save her!”

He didn’t blame Brandon for his outrage and his concern for his sister. He was a good brother and he loved Lyanna so much. Rickard understood his fear and anger because he felt them too. That selfish, entitled prince took his little girl, and could be hurting her just like Brandon said and it made him want to vomit. It took everything he had not to imagine his daughter crying, calling out for him and her brothers to save her as Brandon did. He wished it was as simple as hunting the bastard down and taking his head for daring to lay a single hand on his girl. Prince or not. He would happily hang or have his head on the chopping block for avenging Lyanna’s honor if he believed he would be the only one to suffer the consequences. But he feared the repercussions the rest of his family could face. Aerys was not a king who would be satisfied with just Rickard’s head. He would ask for Brandon’s, and Ned’s too, just to make an example. Just like Duskendale, innocent or not, he would kill anyone with connection and relations to the guilty party and he would not have his family's blood on his hands.

“I know! But we have to stay calm. If we act rashly it could mean more than just Lyanna getting hurt.” he stood from his seat and took his son's shoulders in his hands, forcing him to face him, to look at him.

“What else could possibly matter more than Lyanna?” his son growled, pushing Rickard’s hands off his shoulders and stepping back.

Rickard let him have his space as Brandon resumed his pacing of the room. It would be better he gets out this energy now. If walking circles around the room made him sit still later then he would not stop him. Let him scratch at the floor and walls, as long he wasn’t digging his claws into the Kings' Guard again or baring his fangs at the king.

“Nothing is! What I am trying to explain is that if we are not careful things can go a lot worse for your sister and for the rest of our family as well. We have to play their games, we have to be smart to get Lyanna back and we can’t get her back if we give the king any reason to execute us!” he poured another cup of ale and this time drank it slower.

Brandon stilled, his back rigid, shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breathing, his fists clenched. His son wanted to rage, to howl and cut down everyone and everything in front of him, that much he could sense. Rickard came up behind him, slowly, making sure not to startle him. Brandon right now was no better than a wild animal, ready to bolt.

“We will get her back, son. I promise.” He spoke in a soft voice, his hand finding his son's shoulder again. Brand turned his head to look at him and he saw that his eyes shined with tears he wouldn’t let fall.

He pulled his son into his arms, holding him tight. He brushed the side of his face against the spot behind Bran’s ears, much like a wolf might nuzzle their pack mates to scent them. The squeak of the door opening had them stepping apart, breath held as they turned and watched the King step enter the chamber.

King Aerys Targaryen was a man two years younger than Rickard himself, who was forty, yet the king looked to be ten years his senior. Rickard had last seen the king at his coronation. Then he had been handsome and stylish sitting on the Iron Throne as his father's crown was placed atop his silver-gold hair. Now the king’s hair appeared more white than silver. His beard was lengthy, past his chest and his hair, his hair was in a long braid over his shoulder that went to his hips. He had so many lines on his below his eyes, making him look aged beyond his years and his face had become thin and gaunt. His hands were boney with long, yellow talon-like nails. His teeth had yellowed too. The once handsome, charismatic king that had taken the throne all those years ago had become a skeleton of who he once was since he had been rescued from the Defiance of Duskendale. And yet, he could look for worse.

  
His hair appeared clean, his long beard comb and he walked in with the confident swagger he had in his youth. His velvet doublet was well-tailored to his body, making him look slender and fit rather than skinny and fragile. His crown was perfectly settled atop his brows, a heavy-looking thing of red gold, each point the head of a dragon with gemstone eyes. Rickard thought the weight of it must often give the king a crick in the neck.

Rickard bowed low at the waist, looking to Brandon to do the same. His son did so reluctantly, following his father's example but glaring at him in his peripheral. He hated this. Having to posture when it was the other party who had wronged them, yet still being made to humor and flatter. In truth, Rickard had a distaste for it too. It was not the North's way of courtesy. They were gruffer in their shows of respect, less formal.

“Your majesty, thank you so much for granting us this private audience,” Rickard quickly started his greeting. “It’s an honor--”

“What is the meaning of this treachery, coming into my home and demanding the life of my heir, your prince!?” the king demanded, his brows furrowed over stormy violet eyes. When he didn’t receive an answer within the same second of asking his question, he followed with a threat. “I should tie you both to a post and feed you the flames for this offense!”

The Kings' Guard spread out, taking a place against the wall, hands on the ready to draw their swords. Brandon and Rickard eye them warily. Their weapons had been taken earlier from them after Brandon’s violent display. They were defenseless if they were to be attacked.

“I apologize for my son’s outburst, your majesty. He can be quite impetuous and brazen, he let his distress speak for him.” Rickard explained, giving another respectful bow to add to the apology.

“Apologize, Brandon,” he gave a low hiss in the direction of his son. Brandon ground his teeth, looking ready to protest but under the waiting gaze of the king and the threatening stance of the guards and stare of his father, he soon relented and bowed his head to the king.

“My sincerest apologies for my outburst, your majesty. I am simply a distraught brother who wishes for his sisters' safe return,” said Brandon, eyes on the king's feet.  
“Rise, and sit,” the king said sharply after an excruciating minute of appraising them.

Rickard and Brandon took a seat at the council table, but only after the king took his first. The king looks far beyond irritated, “Explain at once what you are talking about!”

“Pardon, your majesty. As you know, my son,” he looks at Brandon beside him, “Is to be wed to the Lady Catelyn Tully this month, in mere weeks actually,”

The king waved his hand, rolling his wrist in a gesture to get on with it. “Yes, yes, I received the invitation, get on with the matter of your daughter,”

A vein throbbed in Rickard's neck. Lyarra loved to tease him about it. She loved to make it bulge and to kiss it. He should have been in a luxurious room at Riverrun with her, enjoying the glow of their son's wedding. Instead, he was in this decorative, perfume drowned latrine of a city trying to be diplomatic to get his only daughter back from the hands of a deranged prince who thought he could pick up and kidnap betrothed highborn girls.

“My daughter and my wife were traveling from Winterfell to attend the wedding in Riverrun, they stopped some ten leagues from Harrenhall for a night of rest. There, witnesses that include my wife, saw your son, Prince Rhaeger, pull my daughter onto his horse and ride off with her not far from tr campsite.” when he said this the kings thin, white brows rose to his hairline before a look of outrage colored his face. He snapped his fingers and swung his head to speak to a squire or footman.

“Get Lord Varys and Tywin in here, _now_!” the king was practically spitting out steam from his nose, much like the sigil of his house. Any moment he expected the man to start spitting fire.

“My king, your son gave us no warning of his coming and did not announce himself to my family's traveling party. Instead, he came in the dead of night like a bandit and stole my only daughter away.” Rickard continued, concentrating on his breathing, on the words he was speaking.

Brandon then spoke, voice strained. “We followed Prince Rhaegar’s party back to the capital. We ask for justice and the return of my sister.”

“From your daring outburst on your arrival I assumed what you wanted was my son's head, not justice,” the king spat, calling over a cupbearer to pour him some Arbor Gold. He took a drink.“You have some balls on you boy, direwolf balls. Big and hairy!”

The king gave a disturbing cackle of amusement that both Rickard and Brandon did not know how to respond to.

Rickard cleared his throat.

“As you know, my daughter is betrothed to Robert Baratheon, who is your cousin's son. Prince Rhaegar’s actions are not just a great offense against my family,” he rubbed a finger over his chin. “but your own. Rhaegar has snubbed his betrothed for that of an unwilling girl in his cousins wife-to-be,”

He dared not think of how Tywin Lannister would take this insult as soon as he heard of it.

He would instead try to use that and sympathize with the formidable lion when he arrived. For now, he focused on the king and making sure he saw just how disastrous this situation was, not just on a sentimental level for house Stark, but politically for the crown as well so that he might move to take quick, and drastic action to return Lyanna.

“Or perhaps your daughter seduced him, bewitched him with her Northern wiles. I saw how she looked at my son at Harrenhal, the way she wept when he sang his sad little song,” the king sneered and Rickard had to snap his hand to clasp the thigh of his son to keep him in his seat.

“Your son is a talented singer, my king. Many a girl and woman wept when he sang,” he reminded the king.

“And I don’t appreciate your assumption of my daughters' character, your majesty, nor do I believe what little you have seen of Lyanna validates this poor opinion of her.” he breathed in through his nose, reigning in his own anger while keeping Brandon in check as well. “my daughter has never spoken to your son, and yet it was Rhaegar who crowned her the queen of love and beauty at the tourney after his own betrothed had to depart early from the festivities,”

“Perhaps it was he who meant to seduce my daughter, to try and lead her astray from her honor and duty.” he wanted to curl his lips, to snarl and bare his fangs and claws. For Direwolves had them too, not just lions and dragons.

“It is your son's character that is being called into question here, not my daughter. Lyanna is a good, honorable child. True to her betrothed,” Rickard said from thin lips. Having lost his composure and saying more than he had planned to.

“Whatever it was that Rhaegar had planned for my daughter, if it was to seduce her with that crown of flowers or not, it failed. She did not go willingly with Prince Rhaegar. My men saw Lyanna struggle against your son as he rode off with her.” he informed the king, his fingers curling so his hand became a fist atop the table, his heart constricting into a tight ball at the thought of his lively daughter, beating at Rhaegar’s chest, hitting and pushing at him, demanding he let her go but as a woman too weak to do much to deter him.

As he was speaking, the king's purple eyes burned and his pale complexion grew redder. Rickard should have stuck to the facts, Lyanna’s kidnapping and where she was and how to get her back, but he could not ignore how the king had insulted his daughter like that. That he would dare question the honor of House Stark.

The king looked ready to order his execution then and there when the door opened again. Lord Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the king, and Lord Varys, the Master of Whispers entered.

Tywin was a year younger than Rickard, being nine-and-thirty. But where Rickard still had his hair, though it may be smarting to grey, Tywin was already balding, his fine golden hair thin and receding. But otherwise, he was aging far better than his old friend the king. The lion of Casterly Rock was fearsomely tall, with broad shoulders and a slender frame, yet it was not the same as the king, you could tell there was muscle pressing against the fabric of his tunic sleeves, finely embroidered with lion heads at the shoulders. Rickard was sure the mane kept himself well trained with a sword. He did not think Tywin was a man who would forgo disciplining his body, even when there was no wars or battles to be fought. A man must always be prepared for battle.

His green eyes and their flecks of gold gave Tywin a cat-like impression. Sharp and clever. Those dangerous eyes were fixated on Rickard, a look of ruthless resentment in them. He did not blame Tywin, after all his daughter was being snubbed for his currently.

Upon the entrance of his hand, the king sat straighter in his chair and glared at Tywin. Even in the North rumors of the tumultuous relationship between the king and his hand reached their small court. Rickard stood for the Hand, bowing his head respectfully, knowing very well he was to be feared and to be shown the respect his title owed him. He had reigned as a shadow king for many years, ruling and keeping Westeros afloat and prospering as the king recovered from his traumatic ordeal at Duskendale, recovering his body and mind.

Tywin was almost more dangerous to anger than the king.

“I have been informed of the situation,” Tywin said, speaking to the room, as he took the chair to the king's right side.

“What a scandalous event indeed,” said Varys, his bald head shining with scented oil that Rickard could smell from where he was. He was dressed in silks of a foreign fashion that draped over his plump body. He ran his fingers over the jeweled rings of his hands as he took his own seat, smiling as if this amused him. 

The Master of Whispers now had the kings full attention, his rage focused on Varys.

“You!” the king snarled at Varys who flinched in response, “How did you not know of this, hmm? Why am I only learning about this now? You are supposed to know and report to me everything that happens in my kingdoms!”

The eunuch lowered his chin, looked abashed as he gave a fierce apology, making a litany of excuses about ‘Little Birds’ having trouble following Rhaegar that Rickard didn’t understand. Nor did he care to, he just wanted Lyanna brought down to them immediately and for Brandon to escort her home. He would handle the matter of reaping his justice from Rhaegar.

“Please, if you would just have Lyanna brought to us, this can all be settled---”

“ _The girl_ and Prince Rhaegar are not here, Lord Stark,” said Tywin after having raised a hand to Varys to cut him off from disclosing further how the small council gathers information. 

Brandon’s entire body tensed, going as cold and as hard as an iceberg.

Rickard felt the blood rush from his face and his intestines knotted and seized up with horror. This could not be. They had followed the trail of some of the princes companions, back to Kings Landing. The soldiers that had been with his wife and daughter said they saw at least a dozen men when with Rhaegar when fell upon the camp and took Lyanna. He and Brandon had assumed that Rhaegar would come to Kings Landing. On the way down the King's Road they stopped at an inn where someone had told them they had seen some of the prince's known friends and that they had left in the direction of Kings Landing. Now he realized with a sinking stomach that it was a misdirection, Rhaegar had counted on that assumption and split up his party and sent them back to Kings Landing to keep Rickard and Brandon from following his actual trail. While they followed the planted leads, Rhaegar split off and took Lyanna somewhere else. They should have seen the truth sooner. Damn Rhaegar to the seven hells.

Rickard breathed in through his nose, calming his nerves before speaking again though the wolf inside of him was scratching to be released. He explained that they had followed after men that had been with Rhaegar, believing they had kept the rear to combat them if they even caught up. They had thought Rhaegar would be in the lead, guarded by the rest of his friends. But now, it seemed it was a ruse and Rhaegar had never been with them at all.

“Do you know the identities of these men, the ones you followed here?” Tywin questioned, voice like the hot coal of a fire. “We will have them summoned and questioned immediately.”

It was Brandon who was fist to give the names. Jon Connington, Richard Lonmouth, Myle Mooton, and Jonothor Darry of the Kings Gaurd were who they had followed, but had testimonies that Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kings Gaurd and Ser Oswell Whent were with Rhaegar at the time of the abduction as well. The ladder had not returned to King's Landing and so was assumed must still be with the prince.

As the men in question who were accountable at the Red Keep were summoned, Brandon continued to speak his mind. 

“Rhaegar must have took her to Dragonstone. We need to go there at once,” he began to stand to make his departure, looking to his father to follow him. But the Warden of the North stayed seated.

Running out in the middle of all this would do them no good if they had no solid leads to follow. Dragonstone was just an assumption. He could feel Tywin’s intense stare on him, unnerving him but he was of the North and it would take more than a lion to make him quake in his boots. He did sympathize with the Lord of the Rock, having his daughter snubbed and insulted in this manner by her husband-to-be but this was not Rickard or Lyanna’s fault. That entirely fell on Rhaegar’s shoulders being a man near twice his daughter's age and very soon to be married. 

He focused on his son. 

“Patience boy, we don’t want to rush off only to find we are on a goose chase and Lyanna is still not to be found” he then gave his son a meaningful look to sit his arse back down and keep his mouth shut. “We’ll know more if we listen to what these men have to say. They can tell us where Prince Rhaegar took your sister,”

When the men were brought in, Tywin leads the interrogation. But it was to bear no fruit. They all explained prince Rhaegar had sworn them to secrecy and the lot refused to disclose anything about the plans for Lyanna’s abduction or where Rhaegar had taken her after they were told to separate from the rest of the group and head to Kings Landing on their own.

Rickard wasn’t quick enough to catch his son before Brandon had his hands around Connington's neck, squeezing the life out of him and demanding answers to his sister's location. The king nor Tywin did not order him to stop. Not immediately anyway. They surprisingly let the lad get in a few hits before he was commanded to stand down.

“You speak treason, Lord Connington, declaring you loyalty sole to Prince Rhaegar and refusing to answer the king's questions. You realize this don’t you?” said Tywin as he stood tall and intimidating in front of the men, his hands behind his back and his cat-like eyes calculating and threatening. “And you are aware of the punishment for treason, no?”

The other men look a bit more shaken up, but they still held their resolve while Jon Connington was the prime example of this as he stayed the steadfast servant, refusing to give up his master's plans to them. He set his jaw and held his chin up high, not a speckle of regret to be found in the set of his face or look in his eyes.

“I do, Lord Hand,” he swallowed, accepting his fate and looking behind Tywin to the King himself, “Your Majesty, I can not betray your son's confidence and if my loyalty to him brings upon my death, then so be it. I am his humble friend and servant, and will die happily knowing I could be counted as a true and loyal companion to Rhaegar to my last breath,”

The king gave a sneer of disgust.

“Yes, yes, even I know the depths in which the well of friendship can go,” he said with a continued curl of the lip. “but this goes beyond the loyalty of friendship, you stupid boy. I am your king, not my dribbling, sentimental fool of a son! You adhere to my commands above all others and if I want answers you give them to me!”

He pounded a thin hand down onto the table. The sound it made was an unimpressive, dull thud.

“You all best loosen your tongues now or we will see if they dance to the tune of the crackling fire as the flames of your execution pyres lick up your bodies and consume you. One way or another, I will get what I need from you,” the king threatened them. “Where are Rhaegar and the girl?!”

They flinched at the threat and the king's sharp, deadly tone. The knights and lord started turning a little green, even the bravest of men were not immune to the fear of being burned alive. It was one of the worst ways to go and it was the king's preferred method of execution. Despite that fear, they did not give the prince up.

“Are all of you ready to die on the same spike like this one, or is there some sense in at least one of you fools?” asked the king, eyeing the knights lined up with Connington.

The heir to Griffon’s Roost glared at his companions as they glanced to one another, looking ready to concede. Yet, at Jon Connington’s warning stare down, their lips remained tightly sealed and turned their eyes unto the stone beneath their feet.

The king was ready to order their deaths when lord Tywin coolly suggested that some time in the Black Cells might be another method in which to persuade them to talk. So they were taken away, much to Brandon’s irritation, for he believed if left alone with any one of them he could quickly get their lips moving.

“It will take more than beating them bloody to get them to break whatever vows they made to Prince Rhaegar, Lord Brandon.” Tywin gave a curt glance in his direction and then looked more steadfast to Rickard.

“Trust that this matter will be handled as swiftly and _discreetly_ as possible, Lord Stark. Lord Varys will see to confirming whether your daughter is on Dragonstone immediately.” at the clear command, Varys stood, excusing himself to do just that. “We will proceed from there if the conspirators have not given up the information we desire,”

Lord Tywin turned his body fully to face Rickard.

“I do want to make one thing perfectly clear before we end this meeting,” Tywin took a step toward him. “My daughter, Cersei, will wed Prince Rhaegar. The marriage shall go through as planned, no matter the outcome of this situation.”

Rickard glowered and snarled at what Tywin as telling him. Which was if they found Lyanna to be ruined, her virginity taken Prince Rhaegar would not take responsibility and do the honorable thing and take Lyanna for his wife.

“I do believe that the king agrees with me,” Tywin looked to Aerys who looked surprised for the briefest second before passionately agreeing. He stood and came just a step in front of Tywin, showing a united front. 

“If my son has been found to have disgraced your daughter, the crown will be ready to make reparations to your family and young Robert Baratheon.” said the king, nose high, and clearly thinking this matter was an issue riches could solve.

“We don’t want your gold,” growled Brandon.

Rickard felt the cold of the North rush through him, the wolf's blood howling in his veins as he was filled up with ice as he faced off with the king.

“You would be so without honor, to see my daughter, a high born girl of a long and noble family, ruined and pay for it with gold rather than your son's hand. As custom would dictate. You realize if your son truly disgraces my daughter, no man may ever want her. Especially when she was taken while betrothed to another. They will call her a whore, my only daughter, a whore. Because your son kidnapped and raped her!”

“How dare you! All we have is hearsay from your Northern mutts about what happened. It could all be a lie and your daughter happily jumped on Rhaegar’s horse and cock that night. The marriage of my son to Cersei Lannister has been in the making for the last five years. It is crucial to the betterment of the seven kingdoms and I will not let some Northern slut ruin it!” The king's lips quivered, and his eyes were wide and glassy, feverish as the room burst into a thunderous outrage as Rickard, Brandon and the king exchanged heated words until Tywin spoke again.

They fell into silence, glaring at the hand. “That is quite a baseless accusation, my lord, more an assumption than anything from a distraught and concerned father. As I and the king both have daughters, we can imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Tywin spoke with no sympathy in his tone despite his pretty words, instead, his voice was calm, cold, and reprimanding. “We understand you are upset and I am sure this is all a terrible misunderstand and your daughter is a lovely and virtuous girl. But it must be said after this outburst that I encourage you to watch your words when speaking to the king and about the prince less you find yourself joining the others in the Black Cell.”

He wanted to rip the prick's head off and shove it up his gold shitting hole.

“I also trust that you would appreciate absolute discretion on this matter as much as I and the king. Meaning that outside of this chamber this matter should not be discussed even among yourselves in private.” he warned them and Brandon and Rickard both felt their cackles raise. “the crown will not stand to have rumors and gossip spreading around court at this sensitive time and have all our families reputations thrown in the dirt.”

“Now, I do believe the queen has prepared rooms for you,” the lion said, dismissing them. “We will also have guards posted to your chambers to ensure your safety,”

To keep watch on them he meant.

Rickard clenched his teeth and stilled his tongue from giving the arrogant prick a piece of his mind about all of this.

“We are very grateful to your assistance and hospitality, My King. Lord Hand.” Rickard bowed to them both, while Brandon was turning red and fuming, looking about ready to bust like some hideous blister.

A valet was waiting for them outside the chamber door, in the hall, to escort them to their rooms, shadowed by a guard for each of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give an enormous shot out to my must, the wonderful FromTheBoundlessSea, the amazing author of the growing Celia-Verse stories here on AO3 that have gained a great deal of popularity. The first of her stories I had ever read was Porcelain, Ivory, Steal which was rewritten to Actions Speak Louder. We first got in contact when I reached out to her to ask permission to draw something out of Actions Speak Louder, a family portrait of Jonsa and their children. I updated her and sent her every stage of the progress until it was complete. Once it was done, I continued to reach out to her for writing advice and now I think we have a really great friendship and she has helped me so much through my writing rutts.   
> I might not have even uploaded this story if not for her encouragement.   
> Please check out her page on AO3 and her Tumblr which is under the same name.

**Author's Note:**

> Character ages, the year is late 281 AC.  
> Shaena-15  
> Cersei-16  
> Rhaegar-23  
> Lyanna-15  
> Daeron-13  
> Viserys-5  
> Ned-19  
> Brandon-20  
> Catelyn-18


End file.
